


Thief of the Night

by ookamijudge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Character Death, Creature Fic, Gen, Implied Cannibalism, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ookamijudge/pseuds/ookamijudge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thinking he did the unforgivable, Harry hides away in the Forbidden Forest after the end of his third year. When he finds out that the people he cares for are in danger, he takes it upon himself to try to make up for his past misdeeds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thief of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> from the prompt [#92](http://hp-darkarts.livejournal.com/67791.html?thread=938959#t938959) by Lord Spyridon
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry, Lord Spyridon. I had planned to try and work in the pairing, but it just didn’t happen. Harry was a bit too mad.

Hermione couldn’t help but glance behind her as she ran, just in time to see Remus sink his teeth into Harry’s arm. She didn’t want to leave him behind, everything in her screamed not to leave him in the forest. They had tried to run together when she quickly realised they would need help from the castle and that she just didn’t have the spells to save them both, but Harry had tripped and she hadn’t realised it until she heard him yell. By then she had been too far away to be of help, which left her only with the option to keep running.

She forced herself to keep moving towards Hogwarts to get help, knowing she couldn’t do anything else and hoping they would find Harry before sunrise.

* * *

The next day when Harry woke, all he remembered was Hermione running and a sudden urge to give chase. The fear that he had committed a terrible act, combined with the blood on the floor and covering his hands caused Harry to panic and run as fast as he could, each step taking him further from the castle. The further he went, the more lost he became in the Forbidden Forest.

He had never gone so far into the forest, the trip to see Aragog last year with Ron and his encounter with the unicorns the year before had been more than enough for him. The trees seemed to be closing in on him from every side and it was nearly too dark to see anything the leaves on the tree branches overhead were so thick. There were a few times during those waking moments that could have been days or just hours when he thought he might have heard voices or his name, but he could never be sure and could never hear things clearly enough to find the ones that called out for him.

* * *

If Harry had been found in those first days things might have gone differently, but the passing of time left him in a worsening state of mind. With no real food or water, and the burden of the guilt he felt thinking he had done something horrid to his best female friend sent him spiralling into a deep depression. It was not a happy time and things were not helped by the approaching full moon that sent the new feral part of his mind into fits. He needed to run, to move, to be free.

In the end he gave into it and turned to the depths of the forest to run.

* * *

Over the next year, what would have been Harry’s fourth, there were signs of the new inhabitant of the Forbidden Forest. Pools of blood and bits of corpses that were picked at by the Thestrals. Here and there, scraps of cloth could be found and bits of glass. To those who knew what had happened with Remus, these were signs of the missing Boy Who Lived. To everyone else, the signs were warnings not to set foot in the forest.

* * *

Left alone for his second summer, Harry found himself actually enjoying it for once. Was he happy to be a werewolf? Was he happy to have hurt his friend? Was he happy to rampage through the Forest once a month? No he wasn’t, but he was away from the Dursleys, and while it had taken time he now knew how to get as much food as he wanted. He did miss his friends, but it was nice not to have everyone looking at him. In fact, he had found that most of the beings in the forest actually avoided him which suited him just fine.

* * *

Mostly under control, Harry couldn’t help venturing close to the castle when the children returned for what would have been his fifth year. The things he heard disturbed him greatly and he couldn’t fight his instinct to help. It took him a couple of weeks, but he finally figured it out: the ones with _his_ Mark smelled different. With that thought in mind, Harry made a decision.

While he didn’t want to kill anybody that didn’t deserve it, the ones with Voldemort’s Mark couldn’t be allowed to live.

Harry was careful about it, using the times he had moved around the castle under the cover of his cloak to his advantage. He sneaked into the castle and put poisonous plants from the forest into the beds of those that threatened his friends. He tripped one of the students with the Mark down the stairs and another one ended up cutting himself with a potions knife while trying to practice brewing alone. He was rather proud of himself when he actually managed to make one Slytherin just disappear. 

Harry tried to vary the attacks and avoid it looking too suspicious, but he knew someone would catch on before too long, or rather he knew they already had when he was discovered by a certain cat belonging to a certain caretaker. He didn’t wish ill on Mrs. Norris, not really, but she had just made his task harder. He hadn’t meant to be caught or found by anyone. The thought of being captured terrified him, even if he kept telling himself he was doing the right thing and protecting his friends. Still, he couldn’t risk it anymore and promised himself that he wouldn’t return to the castle again.

It did make him sad to know he could never go back in the castle. He had managed to catch glimpses of Ron, Ginny, Neville, Dean, and various other people he had known before. It had been a comfort to know they were still living and living well – it made returning to the forest and sneaking through the castle while nearly getting caught worth every second. He was sad it would have to end, but promised himself he would continue his work in keeping the ones he knew safe; he would find a way!

It was these thoughts that caused him to go over the edge when it came to _his_ followers, those and catching Ginny and a boy with the Dark Mark in the forest during a full moon. Later he would remember thinking Ginny called the boy Michael and he would come to remember a Ravenclaw boy by that name in his year, but in that moment the wolf just saw Ginny in danger and attacked. If he had stopped for a moment, he might have known Ginny and the boy were having a private moment, but he didn’t stop. All the wolf saw was Ginny and danger.

The horrified look on Ginny’s face when the wolf looked up from ripping the boy to shreds sent Harry running, just as he had all those months ago after waking up covered in blood the first time. He had hurt Hermione already, and he wouldn’t hurt Ginny too – he wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it ever again.

* * *

Harry spent the following years roaming the country and taking out all of those who bore Voldemort’s Mark. Despite his urges, he always sought to avoid other humans. The horrified look on Ginny’s face stuck in his mind and it returned anew every time he went after another Death Eater.

No one could take him down, though many had tried, but he had forgiven them. They didn’t know he was just protecting them. He had nearly lost his resolve the first time he came up against a Death Eater with a family. Seeing the look of grief and horror on the face of someone he vaguely recalled from school was hard. While the horror stayed with him long into the night, nothing caused him more pain than the memory of Ginny’s terrified face and Hermione’s blood on his hands. Harry knew he had to do this; he was protecting her, her, and all the others who didn’t follow Voldemort.

* * *

It was over a year before he found a friend again, or rather someone who could have been a friend. Even after all these years he would never forget Ginny’s scent, which filled his senses, even now. It seemed to come from the very grass in the forest or the bark on the trees in the woods he had happened to spend the night in, and he didn’t know a scent could be so strong.

It was a small house or maybe a cabin, he wasn’t sure which, but it was obviously just meant for one person. It made him sad to know part of his pack was out here all alone and he found he couldn’t resist the urge to check up on Ginny. The part of him that was truly still Harry had to know that Ginny was happy and safe.

While the wolf in Harry was glad to be greeted with an open door, the part that was Harry himself felt sick at the sight, especially when there was the scent of **that man’s Mark** coming from the house. It had been faint enough before to ignore, but the closer he got to the door, the stronger it was and the more it seemed to try and overtake the smell of a pack mate, of Ginny. He felt his anger rise and his hackles with it; this was not a scent that should be here with Ginny.

Harry charged through the open door in his feral form, and found himself faced with Ginny. She looked just as he remembered and he couldn’t help moving closer. She looked horrified, and the sight stilled him in his tracks. What was she scared of? He had _protected her_ from the one bearing Voldemort’s Mark. The horror quickly melted away to disgust, causing Harry to take a short step back, cocking his head and watching her. She lifted her arm, firing a spell, and while he hardly felt it, he still took another step back as the smell of _the Mark_ drifted by his nose once more.

It _couldn’t_ be. She _couldn’t_ be one of _them_. No, there had to be someone else here he wasn’t seeing.

Harry moved forwards once more, backing Ginny into a wall before sinking his teeth into the cloth of her shirt. Expecting nothing, he couldn’t help the growl that slipped out at the sight of the black Mark burned into her arm. He turned his attention to her face and growled. The part of him that was still Harry wanted answers, but his feral side just wanted her blood. How could a member of his pack do this? How could they become one of _his_?

Maybe if some part of him wasn’t burdened by the thought that he had killed Hermione, things could have gone differently. Maybe if this wasn’t the sister of the small bit of him that was still human, things could have been salvaged. But in that moment all the wolf saw was a traitor – and traitors had to be killed.

The wolf’s jaws locked around Ginny’s neck, bones making sickening cracking sounds as he bit down. He was tempted to just rip out the female’s throat and tear her to shreds, but something made him pause. The part that remembered this one was part of his pack knew he had to leave a message.

He clamped his jaws shut until her heart beat no more before releasing the body, letting it drop to the floor. The only thing the wolf bothered with was to nudge at the female’s arm until the ugly black Mark was easily seen, he wanted there to be no question why he took out a member of his own pack.

Giving the body one last look, the wolf ran. He didn’t know where he was going and he no longer cared. He just had to run, had to get away from this betrayal. Maybe one day he could explain to someone why he was doing this, but after this he didn’t know how or when.

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